


Only When Needed

by skargasm



Series: Only When Needed [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), BAMF Stiles, Banshee Lydia Martin, Good Alpha Talia Hale, Hellhound Jordan Parrish, Left Hand Peter Hale, M/M, Murder Husbands, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Male Character(s) - Freeform, Stiles Stilinski is a Little Shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25105975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: As Left Hand and Enforcer for the Hale Pack, Peter tends to stand back and observe. And he notices something about their new pack-mate, Stiles, way before anyone else even has a clue.Or: Five people who realised Stiles was a badass, and the one person who knew all along.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Kira Yukimura, Laura Hale/Jordan Parrish, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Series: Only When Needed [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1816900
Comments: 146
Kudos: 1412





	1. Not such a dumbass

**Author's Note:**

  * For [evealeta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evealeta/gifts), [isisncats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isisncats/gifts), [nightmistress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmistress/gifts).



> Hello lovely people!
> 
> And I'm still riding the 5+1 train! I had a hankering to do a full-on BAMF Stiles, so here it is. Thank you for taking a chance on a WiP and I will try to post updates regularly. I doubt this will follow the formula of 5+1 as I tend to get a little carried away! 
> 
> Mini chapter banners will be posted separately and may constitute spoilers so if you go see them, bear that in mind. Please remember, I'm a complete amateur at paint.net so they are just visuals that I use to help me write the story. 
> 
> This is unbeta'd but I use Grammarly for spellcheck/grammar. If you spot anything glaringly awful, please just let me know in the comments. I do try to respond to all comments as I go along but forgive me if I miss something you say.
> 
> Big hugs and kisses to the Usual Suspects: devilscut, Mephistopheles, tummysassandass, spazlady2002, mulder200 - you are the world's best enablers of my insane muse! Hello to anyone new to my weird-ass world!
> 
> Stay safe, stay well, stay kind  
> Skargasm  
> x
> 
> * * *

”He’s not the dumb-ass his friend is.” Peter sat across from his Alpha, watching as she made notes. 

“Really? Because I would have thought by the age of 20, most kids would have realised that taking a midnight trek through the Preserve wasn’t the best idea ever.”

“I didn’t say he wasn’t something of an idiot – just not as much as his friend. He’s the Sheriff’s son – how much of a dumbass could he be?” Talia gave him a look and he nodded. “Okay, so maybe the Sheriff has protected him from the worst consequences of his actions during his youth – “

“To be fair, I’ve never heard that about the Sheriff. As far as I can ascertain, when Stiles messed up he was left to take his punishment.”

“So – we allow him to remain pack-adjacent? For the time being at least?”

“Keep an eye on him – on them both – please, Peter. McCall is adjusting relatively well to the bite – not in small part to his friend. But – I don’t want them fully assimilated into the Pack until we can decide if they’re a good fit.” Peter nodded, plucking a piece of lint off his trousers. 

“And the Alpha that bit McCall?”

“We’ll deal with it. On our territory – not acceptable.”

“Excellent. I need to go into the office – some paperwork has come in for a case I’ve been working on.”

“I’ll call if I need you.”

* * *

”Mr Stilinski – I almost hesitate to ask you this but – what exactly do you think is going to be achieved by this?” Talia waited to hear what Stiles had to say, keeping some of her senses concentrated on their environment. When Stiles had contacted her and said he had managed to track down the Alpha that had bitten his friend, she had been extremely doubtful. Why would some _boy_ manage to do what they had failed to do in the last two weeks? But she had met him at the edge of the territory, prepared to see what he had discovered. She hadn’t bothered with back up – she very much doubted that he had found anything that she wouldn’t be able to handle.

“I don’t like the fact that this guy can call Scott out whenever he wants and potentially make him do anything he wants. And you guys were drawing a blank – “

“We have been looking – “ Stiles turned to look at her and she almost flinched at the expression on his face. He looked disbelieving and also slightly contemptuous of the efforts of the Pack.

“Look, Alpha Hale – can I be frank? I know you guys have got more on your plate than saving Scott. I get it – the territory is large, you have hunters watching your every move, blah blah blah. But see – Scott is my best bud. And the thought that he might be forced to do something that messes him up makes me feel like a few less platitudes and a little more action is needed.”

“Mr Stilinski – “

“Calling me Mr Stilinski in that tone of voice isn’t going to make me be any more polite, so you might as well just call me Stiles. I didn’t stay in Beacon Hills because I had no choice – I had a full ride to Stanford waiting for me if I wanted it. I’m here for my family and that includes Scott. So, if you guys aren’t going to take this guy out and stop him causing chaos, then I will.”

“With all due respect, what makes you think that you’ll be able to take this guy out? From all of our research, Montague isn’t going to come easily. It would be a far better idea to – “

“DOWN!” Talia gaped at Stiles’, moving just a tad too slow to avoid the heavy body that threw itself at her. She landed on the ground, barely managing to roll out of the way of the claws that sliced down, intending to take out her throat. Montague was a beast of a man, face twisted in a snarl of anger and determination and she scrambled to her feet, already transforming.

“Stiles – get out of here!” She couldn’t take the time to check whether or not the Stilinski boy did as he was told, busy fighting for her life. Montague was determined, forcing her backwards with the ferocity of his attack. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Stiles was grabbing something from the old Jeep that he drove around in, but she didn’t have the time to see what it was, leaping out of the way of Montague’s next attack. God-damn it, she wasn’t dressed for this, having come directly from the office so she was wearing a pant-suit and heels of all things. 

She flicked off her shoes, spinning to kick Montague in the face. He barely flinched, grabbing her leg and throwing her into the trees and she fell to the floor. She tried to get to her feet, realising too late that one of her legs was broken when it gave under her weight. For the first time, she began to be concerned. This Alpha was far stronger than she had expected and she had come out here with no back up other than the human son of the local Sheriff, and without informing her Pack. 

“Ahh, is the Hale Alpha not as tough as others make her out to be? I want your territory, bitch, and I am perfectly happy to kill every member of your family to make sure it happens. But I’ll happily start with you!” Montague smiled, showing a mouthful of fangs and Talia felt her anger rise. She gathered her power around her, about to show Montague just _why_ she was one of the most feared Alphas in the United States when his head was sliced clean off his body. Her feeling of surprise was mirrored by the expression on the dead man’s face and she stared into Stiles’ face as the body finally registered that the head was gone and collapsed in a heap to the floor.

“Well, you weren’t actually meant to be bait, but I can improvise.” Stiles was cleaning blood off the machete in his hand, not having even broken out a sweat. “Come on, let’s get you back to your place – I think they’re gonna have to set that for you because it looks like a nasty break.”

Talia looked down at her leg, seeing that bone was showing through the silk of her pants leg. Before she could gather her equilibrium, Stiles had pulled her arm over his surprisingly broad shoulders and was helping her back to the Jeep. 

“Is it okay if one of your pack comes back for the body and your car? It’s just I think it’ll be easy for you to ride in the Jeep – you can stretch your leg out and it’s not like the blood stains will make much difference.”

“You – “

“I know – my Dad is always on at me to clean the Jeep out but – who the hell has time when you can play Assassins Creed, am I right?” He helped her into the back of the Jeep, jogging back to her car and returning with her handbag and car keys. “Will you do me a favour? Don’t tell Scott about this, okay? He gets a bit – _moral_ about things like this, and I’ve discovered it’s far easier to just not tell him than try to explain.”

“Of course.”

“What happens about the whole alpha thing?” Mentally shaking herself, she considered his question. 

“We’ll contact Derek – get him to bring Scott to the house. If the mantle of alpha has passed to Scott, he’ll need more training. I doubt it though – Montague has obviously done something like this before. I’ll contact the Council, get them to track down whoever receives the spark if it’s not Scott.”

Stiles nodded, climbing into the driver’s seat. He turned the key and when the Jeep didn’t respond, blushed a fiery red. Pumping the gas and uttering what sounded like a prayer, he tried again and the engine fired. 

“YESS! Want to call someone, let them know that you’re coming in injured?”

“Yes – yes, of course.” Rummaging through her handbag and starting to notice the pain from her leg, Talia made a mental note to speak to Peter. Maybe he was right and Stiles really wasn’t the dumbass that his friend was.

* * *

Talia stood in the doorway of the den, watching Stiles, Scott and Cora playing some game on one of the consoles. Stiles shoved Scott, who promptly fell off the couch and lost the race as Cora and Stiles laughed loudly.

Peter came up alongside her, and she turned to him. 

"So – "

"The body has been disposed of and your car is in the garage."

"That wasn't what I was asking and you know it."

"I'll look a little further into him. Apparently, he takes self defence classes in the town over - _advanced_ classes."

"Not quite all that he appears then." They both watched as another game was begun. "Peter, you should have seen how calm he was. I hate to say it, but he almost reminded me of you."

Her brother gave a smile, giving Stiles an assessing look. She knew that look. 

"Peter – he's the son of the Sheriff."

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to. The last time you got a look like that on your face, you almost had to marry that girl from the Kincaid Pack."

"The baby wasn't mine."

"But it could have been. And this is the son of the Sheriff."

"I swear – I won't get him pregnant." Talia sighed even as Peter gave another smile before he walked away, and she wondered just how bad this was going to get.

* * *


	2. The Dangers of Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erica and Stiles go shopping for snacks...
> 
> * * *

”You know, I used to have the biggest crush on you.” Erica ran her finger along the array of chocolate bars, before turning to face Stiles.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah – I thought you were something special back in junior high. I bet you don’t even remember me.” 

“You used to wear your hair in pigtails apart from Fridays when you used to just stick it back with those clips things girls use – barrettes.” She stopped, more than slightly stunned.

“You remember that?”

“Sure. I thought your hair was really pretty – used to tell my Mom it reminded me of sunshine.” Stiles threw a truly impressive amount of popcorn into the trolley before turning back to where she was stood still in shock. “What?”

“How the hell did you remember all of that?”

“I dunno. Things like that just stick in my memory – no idea why.”

“Like – with anyone?”

“Kinda.” She caught up with him and they headed towards the chips aisle. Shopping for the Pack movie nights was a marathon, not a sprint.

“Okay. Tell me something about Boyd.”

“He doesn’t like his vegetables to touch his meat; always eats his side dishes first, and hates ice cream but won’t tell Alpha Hale because she thinks its the world best comfort food.”

“Isaac?”

“Wears scarves all the time because he had bad acne on his neck when he was in his early teens and wants to hide the scars. Pretends to be all tough, but the Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants is his favourite movie.” Erica burst into giggles, spellbound.

“Okay, okay – Laura.”

“Has the hots for Jordan Parrish but since he hasn’t come out as supernatural, she won’t ask him out.”

“Cora – wait, he hasn’t _come out_ as supernatural? Are you saying – “

“Cora cheats at Mario Kart; worships Laura but Derek is actually her favourite sibling.”

“Peter.”

“Dunno.” Erica stopped, grabbing the trolley when Stiles would have continued down the aisle.

“What do you mean, you don’t know? You knew all of the others.”

“I didn’t know Peter back in school.” She nodded and let the trolley go.

“Wait, you didn’t know Laura back in school either.” Stiles had come to a halt, suddenly alert.

“Erica – I need you to leave everything and get to the end of this aisle, close to the storeroom at the back.”

“What – why?” Stiles gave her an exasperated look.

“Can you just do it?”

“Nope – my days of doing as I’m told, unless it's my alpha’s instructions – are _long_ over.” She made a big deal of checking her manicure, well aware of Stiles’ frustration. 

“Fine. You got anything that could count as a weapon other than your fangs and claws?”

“Why would I need a weapon other than those?”

“Because sometimes the bad guys aren’t supernatural!”

“Fair point but – “

“Put your hands in the air and gimme all the money from the register!” The shout came from the front of the store, right near the end of their aisle.

“Dammit!” Stiles sighed loudly. 

“What do we do?”

“Well it’s too late for you to go to the back of the store – they might see you. Just – if you need to go all grrr, _try_ and be discreet. They’ve got a couple of cameras in this store.” Before she realised what he was planning, Stiles grabbed the trolley and continued pushing it down to the front of the store. 

“Wait – Stiles – “ She yanked her cell out of her pocket and sent an SOS message to Boyd, then walked quickly to catch up with Stiles. In one of the mirrors that showed the store employees what was happening in each aisle, she could see that there were three guys wearing balaclavas standing in front of the register, one of them holding what looked like a small revolver on the poor girl shaking as she fumbled to open the register and get the money out.

“Come on, come on, girlie – it’s not like it’s your money!”

“Chad – it’s already been too long! Let’s just go!”

“You go, you chickenshit – I want that money!”

Two things happened at once. Stiles gave the trolley a strong shove and it hit the back of one of the thieves who tumbled to the ground along with all of the snacks, and Stiles ran forward, grabbing one of the others around the throat and pulling him back to the ground. By instinct, Erica ran forward, kicking the third guy in the balls as he turned to see what was going on. 

“Call 911!” she shouted at the girl behind the register before turning back to help Stiles. She stared open-mouthed as he kicked away the gun that had dropped out of the assailant's hand, then stomped on his chest hard enough that she heard ribs crack. The third guy had managed to untangle himself from the shopping trolley, and she gasped as he headed straight for Stiles. “Watch – “

She didn’t even get the chance to finish the warning. Stiles spun and kicked him in the face, following it up by a vicious boot to the knee that sent him to the ground, writhing in agony and clutching at his knee and head.

She felt something grab her ankle and turned to see that her guy seemed to have recovered from the kick to the balls and was trying to tug her down onto the floor. She lashed out with her foot, catching him on the side of the head and knocking him unconscious. 

“Oh my God, you guys, like, _totally_ saved my life!” The sobbing girl from behind the register had come around to the front and grabbed hold of Erica, hanging off her neck as she babbled her gratitude.

“No big,” said Stiles as he walked over. “Does that mean we get a discount? And would it be okay if we avoided the cops and you ‘lost’ the security footage from tonight? It’s just – hours giving statements is not how I want to spend the rest of my Saturday, you know?”

* * *

“How the hell did you guys get all of this?”

“Whoo hoo! You’re always going shopping for Pack movie nights!” The Pack clustered around Erica as she staggered into the den, weighed down by the seven bags she had been convinced she could easily carry in from the car. Stiles came in behind her, drinking root beer from the bottle and carrying two bags like they weighed a tonne.

“Stilinski, you complete wuss! Couldn’t carry more?”

“Bite me, Isaac!”

“Hey, Stiles, did you get my Reese’s?”

“Course, Scott – what kind of buddy would I be if I forgot your favourite snacks.” After the general hubbub of grabbing snacks and arguing over which movie they should be watching – something that should have been agreed by the time Erica and Stiles got back – Erica took her customary seat next to Boyd.

“What was the SOS? By the time I checked my cell, you guys were already back.” She turned to answer, catching Stiles looking at her out of the corner of her eye. The look was steady as if he was merely waiting for her reply.

“Oh – the Jeep wasn’t starting so we needed a lift. But then Stiles worked his magic and here we are.”

“Cool.” Boyd turned back to the TV and she shared a small smile with Stiles.

* * *

”Where were you? The kids are having a movie night?” Peter turned as Talia came into the kitchen, nodding at his unspoken offer of a coffee.

“I had to stop off at the store.”

“Oh.”

“Couldn’t get what I wanted – would you believe there was a robbery?”

“Really? I hope no one was hurt.”

“No, no one apart from the bad guys. Funny though – the girl behind the register was a slip of a thing.”

“You know as well as I do size is no indicator of someone’s ability.” Talia leaned against the counter and looked at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” He headed towards the kitchen door. “What are they watching anyway?”

“Hmm?”

“Pack movie night – what are they watching?”

“They had to put it to a vote again because they couldn’t make up their mind! Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants _again_ – no idea why. I think Stiles votes for it just to piss Isaac off, and Erica voted for it tonight too.”

“Hmm. Night, Tal.”

“Night, Peter.”

* * *


	3. Dumbass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't ask me - I have no idea where all of these words are coming from!
> 
> * * *

”What the hell are you doing here?” Derek coughed, staring at Stiles in shock.

“Well hello to you too, big guy!” 

“Seriously, Stiles – you need to get out of here! These guys mean business and I can’t change – they’re pumping a wolfs-bane infusion into the air.” Stiles ignored him, working at the wolfs-bane soaked ropes that bound his hands. “Stiles – **seriously**! Get in touch with Uncle Peter or Mom – they’ll be able to – “

“Do you think you could shut up for, like, five seconds? I’m just the forward guard if it makes you feel any better! Once I realised this is where they were keeping you, I called in the real calvary. I’m just – ah, there, got it! Wriggle your fingers around – it looks like your circulation was getting cut off.” Stiles moved down to his feet, using a large knife now that he didn’t have to worry about accidentally cutting off digits. 

Derek wriggled his arms and hands around, wincing at the surge of blood. Stiles got to his feet as soon as he’d freed Derek’s feet, rummaging in the backpack he had brought in with him. Derek stood up slightly unsteadily, the poisoned air messing with his equilibrium.

“Can you walk?”

“Since I was a toddler.”

“Ha ha! I mean, can you walk out of here? Because I’m not sure we can wait for the calvary.”

“Why – what did you hear?”

“They _may_ have found the guy I knocked out on my way in here.”

“Stiles – “

“What? I could hardly say _’Excuse me, would you look the other way while I sneak past please_ now could I?”

“Dumbass! Maybe if you had waited for Mom and Uncle Peter – “

“Look, Derek, they’re planning on killing you, alright? Some weird-ass sacrifice to the moon! So me waiting wasn’t really an option. Now can you walk or am I going to have to try to carry your heavy ass out of here?”

“You should just make a run for it.”

“Are you insane? Did you hear the part about them sacrificing you – “

“Yes! But we’re not going to be able to get out of here with me unable to transform so – “

“Lord save me from asshole werewolves who think fangs and claws are the be-all and end-all of weaponry!” 

“What?”

“Can you shoot?”

“I tend not to like guns – been shot a few too many times!”

“Well this time you get to be on the other end.” From his bottomless backpack, Stiles pulled out a gun. “Look, simple. Release this, press that, blam – dead guy. Oh – don’t point it at me.”

“What kind of an idiot do you take me for?”

“Well – you’re the dumbass that got caught by those dumbasses so – “

“I thought I’d got a message from – _someone_ – asking me to meet them. Instead, it was these guys.” Derek could feel that he had gone red and hoped Stiles wouldn’t notice. Fat chance.

“Yeah, well, Kira was with me – we were reading up on some stuff about kitsunes.”

“I didn’t say anything about Kira.”

“Oh please! The only people in the pack that don’t know you’re sweet on Kira are Scott, cos he’s blind as a bat unless you’re wearing a mask of Allison’s face and Isaac and that’s because he’s too busy staring at Scott’s – oh, let’s move.” Derek limped after Stiles, holding the gun gingerly. 

“Hey, where did you get that knife?”

“What, this?” Stiles gestured at the Bowie knife he was holding in his left hand.

“Yes, that big-ass knife.”

“Er – Peter gave it to me.”

“My Peter?”

“Yeah, why?” Derek wondered when all of _that_ had happened and he hadn’t even noticed. He recognised the knife – it was one that Peter had purchased in Istanbul and none of them (including his Mother) were allowed to touch it, let alone carry it around as casually as Stiles was. 

“No reason. I thought you were right handed?”

“I am. Look, Derek, kinda busy trying to figure out how to get us out of here minus any additional holes.”

“Just – the knife is in your left hand.”

“That’s because this,” he gestured with a gun that made the one Derek was holding look like a toy, “is in my right hand. I shoot better right handed – I can slice with either. Now, come on.” 

Hugging the walls, they made their way through the maze of tunnels, always heading upwards. There were very few people around, although Derek saw at least two bodies.

“How the hell did you find me anyway?”

“Don’t knock the google-fu, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude.”

“A bit of luck and using my Dad’s passwords – which we _won’t_ be mentioning by the way. This way.”

“Stiles – just how many of these guys did you take out on your way to get to me?”

“Only the ones I came across! Yes – that’s the door – let’s go!” Derek could hardly believe that they’d made it this far without coming across any of the guys who had kidnapped him and of course, as soon as the thought crossed his mind, one of them leapt out of the nearby doorway. Before he could even think of lifting the weapon at his side, Stiles had shot the guy in the dead-centre of his forehead, not breaking his step. “The others might have heard that – come on, big guy.” 

Still rather stunned, nevertheless Derek followed Stiles towards the door, the lack of poisoned air meaning that all of his senses and strength were slowly coming back to him. 

“Watch out on the right!” The voice came from outside and Derek recognised Peter’s voice before there were some strangled screams. He and Stiles had broken into a jog, finally out of the building and Derek could see his mother waiting by the side of one of the Pack vehicles. He made his way over, already feeling much better in the fresh air.

“Jesus, Derek, I was so worried!”

“Sorry, Mom!”

“When we didn’t hear from you – and you didn’t tell anyone – “

“Can we leave the tongue-lashing until we’ve vacated the premises? I don’t know how many more of them there are in there – “ Derek turned to see that Stiles and Peter were talking near the entrance of the building. “What are they doing?”

“I don’t know – Peter said something about cleaning up?”

“Oh – like, Left Hand cleaning up or – “

“Who the hell knows with Peter – or Stiles for that matter.”

“How long have they been together?”

“Together? They’re not together – what makes you think that?” Derek continued watching Peter and Stiles, who was stood close together and arguing by the look of things. 

“Nothing – I must have misread something.” Stiles and Peter came running towards the vehicle and they all climbed in. Talia pulled off at enough speed to make the tyres spin, and just as they turned out of the parking area, Peter pressed a button on a device in his hand, grinning at his nephew. For a few moments, there was silence then a loud **BOOM** came from behind them, and Derek turned to watch the building he had been kept in collapse in on itself in a cascade of rubble, bricks and mortar. 

“I _told_ you that you’d used too much! Someone is gonna have to clean up that mess you know, Peter!” Stiles shouted at Peter from the front seat, who merely laughed. “Asshole!”

* * *

Erica brought in a cup of tea and placed it onto the bedside table before plopping down into the chair next to Derek’s bed. Knowing how irritating she could be and that she wouldn’t leave until she had got whatever it was she had come for, Derek put the book he had been pretending to read down into his lap.

“What?” He frowned at her in the hope that his facial expression would frighten her away, but like the rest of the Pack, she knew that it was all surface. 

“He’s a badass, isn’t he?” Derek couldn’t stop himself from grinning in response to the gleeful look on her face, picturing Stiles with a huge Bowie knife in one hand and a massive gun in the other.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, right. I’m glad you’re safe Derek.”

“Thanks, Erica.” As she left the room and closed the door, Derek re-opened the book and looked at the slightly crumpled piece of paper Stiles had handed to him before he had stomped off to his Jeep. Kira’s name and number was written in chicken-scratch hand-writing with the words _’call her, dumbass’_ above the digits.

* * *


	4. Fathers and Sons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rafe discovers there is more to Beacon Hills than he had ever previously realised...
> 
> * * *

“Dad – Dad, I need you to turn the gun away from Isaac.”

“Scott – didn’t you see? He’s a god-damned monster!” Scott held a hand up to ward his father off, stepping sideways slowly so that he was in front of the weapon. 

“Just – put the gun down and I’ll explain.”

“How the hell do you think you’re gonna explain – _that_?!” Rafe was verging on hysterical, his hand visibly shaking. 

“Look – there are some things about Beacon Hills – things you need to know – “

“Scott – I’m in the fucking FBI! Do you really think there are things I don’t know? Just – come over here, son. Just – step out of the way and come over here.”

“Dad – “ Even at midnight at the edge of the Preserve, with the moon high in the sky, Scott knew his father could see his face. Desperate, Scott allowed his eyes to bleed amber, flashing them so that Rafe could see that he was the same as Isaac.

“Oh my fucking God – you’re **one** of them!” Rafe looked horrified and the little boy that would always be inside of Scott cringed away from the disgust visible in his father’s eyes. It had been hard enough to tell his mother but she had never looked at him like this.

“Dad – I was bitten by a werewolf and I turned! It happened and I – I – “

“Shut up! Just shut up!” Rafe took an unsteady step backwards, the gun now pointed towards Scott. “I – you can’t want to live like this! You’re a monster – you’re – the murders that have been happening – “

“My Pack have been investigating them – that’s why Isaac and I are out here! Dad! Listen to me.”

“I’m sorry, Scott, I’d rather see you dead than a monster.” Scott could see the resolve in his father’s eyes, knew he had made the decision to pull the trigger but he couldn’t make himself move – try to defend himself, nothing.

* * *

”Rafe, if you move that finger even a millimetre, I will take great pleasure in turning you into a eunuch!” 

Rafe looked down, shocked to see the tip of a large knife protruding from between his legs. He hadn’t even heard Stiles walk up behind him, so shocked by what he had seen his son do that he had stopped being aware of his surroundings. 

“Now, you know I’ll do it – you always thought I was a sociopathic little bastard and I have no problem in proving it to you. Peter – could you remove that weapon from Agent McCall’s rather shaky hand please.”At the periphery of his vision, Rafe saw a broad-shouldered man wearing a smirk step forward, a hand coming and taking the weapon from his unresisting fingers. “We’re going to do this nice and slow – please don’t try anything because it might jar my hand and, well – the femoral artery bleeds like a bitch and I happen to really like these clothes.”

Putting his hands up, Rafe took a careful step forward at the same time that Scott and Isaac moved around him towards Stiles. 

“Stiles – Stiles, you can let him go now. I’ll talk to him, explain – “

“Scott – I need you and Isaac to go and wait in the car. Peter – give them the keys. Please.” There was a jangling sound behind him, presumably the car keys changing hands. “Turn around – slowly.” 

Rafe did as he was bid, taking in the sight of Stiles for the first time in years. He looked cool, calm and collected, the large knife in his hand now replaced by a large revolver. His hair was longer, waving around his face, and he had grown stubble, on the edge of a beard. His eyes were cold, the gun not wavering in the slightest. 

“Whatever the FBI thinks it’s doing here in Beacon Hills needs to stop. We’re taking care of it. In fact, if you hadn’t stumbled in tonight and fucked everything up, we probably would have caught the killer. It’s a wendigo, by the way, just in case you were wondering. And you would most likely have been it’s next victim if we weren’t here.”

“That’s – that’s bullshit.”

“Nope, that’s just fact. Just because it’s out of the realm of _your_ experience, doesn’t make it bullshit.”

“The murders – they’re the work of a serial killer – you can’t just – “

“Oh I can. Whatever you need to do to remove any information about the Pack, about Scott – about _anyone_ in Beacon Hills – you will do.”

“I can’t just make the entire case disappear!”

“You better find a way. Because if anyone else from the FBI comes back here – enters this territory and puts any of the Pack at risk – I’m holding you responsible.”

Rafe made a scoffing sound, trying for bravado but knowing he was failing. 

“You think I’m joking? Do I **look** like I’m joking to you?”

“You wouldn’t kill me.”

“Who said anything about killing you? I’d just take a _really_ long time convincing you that crossing me is a bad idea. Understand?”

Rafe gulped then nodded. 

“Good. We’re out of here – we still have a _real_ monster to catch.” Stiles took Rafe’s gun away from the man who had stood and watched silently, efficiently emptying it of bullets before offering it to Rafe, butt first. “I wouldn’t hang around here if I was you – this is one of it’s favourite hunting grounds.”

Stiles smiled, the look incongruous considering he had just threatened Rafe’s life. 

“If it’s any consolation at all, Scott is the furthest thing from a monster _you’ll_ ever meet – despite having a complete asshole for a father. And he’s got a family now who won’t treat him like shit or bail on him. Goodbye Rafe – I hope I don’t see you again.” Stiles turned and strode away, disappearing into the darkness almost silently. 

The man – Peter – stood and looked at Rafe for a few moments and Rafe found himself feeling uncomfortable. He reloaded his gun and holstered it, trying to pull the tatters of his equilibrium around him. 

“You’re lucky – I’d have just gutted you.” Shocked, Rafe looked up and suddenly found himself face to face with something from his nightmares: a monster’s face with huge teeth and glinting blue eyes. He stumbled backwards, falling to the ground. The sound of the monster’s mocking laughter stayed with him even as it walked away.

* * *

”Is my Dad okay? Did he say anything? I wanted to explain – ”

Peter cocked his head slightly, listening intently to the conversation happening in the rear of the car. He could tell Isaac was doing the same from the passenger seat.

“He’s fine! He’s gonna take some time to get used to the changes, but I explained everything. Don’t worry about it buddy!”

“Phew! God, Stiles – you almost had **me** convinced you were willing to hurt him!” Peter and Isaac shared a disbelieving look in the front of the car as Scott gave a relieved laugh. “I’m glad he fell for your bluff – I mean, no wolfs-bane bullets but getting shot would have hurt like a mother!”

“Amen to that! Fragile human here – sometimes sarcasm and the ability to bluff are all I have to defend me!”

“Don’t worry, Stiles – I’ll always do my best to protect you.”

“Thanks Scott – that means a lot.”

“So, hey – did any of the others get the wendigo?”

“No – we’re heading back to the Hale house. We’ll have to hunt another night.”

“You know I don’t like you being part of this – you could get hurt.”

“Not when I have my very own protector wolf – right?”

“Right!”

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for Tummysassandass who **loves** oblivious Scott *lmao*
> 
> Insomnia has come to visit again so I might get this story finished today.... any prompt suggestions for the next one?
> 
> * * *


	5. Solace and Sanctuary

”Peter – we **need** to find out what is doing this! It’s all well and good the Sheriff being in the know about the supernatural, but even **he** can’t keep hiding the disappearance of these bodies!”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’ve exhausted all of my resources and I keep coming up blank. If it was someone within the territory, surely we would have known about them before now?”

“Maybe not. We’ve never had to deal with anything like the Dread Doctors before. Maybe – maybe this thing was activated by their arrival?” Peter nodded thoughtfully even as he strode up and down in the study. “Have you heard from Stiles?”

“No. He said he was ‘looking into’ another line of enquiry. You know how he gets – he doesn’t share his contacts lightly.”

“He does with you.”

“Talia – “

“I know you don’t want to talk about – whatever it is you two have got going on. But – the rest of the Pack seem to realise he’s not as harmless as he would like to appear. The only one who refuses to see it is Scott. But with you – it’s the most open we ever see him, whether it’s his ‘fun’ side or the darker aspects of him.”

“I don’t talk about it because we haven’t defined it. I mean – I’ve barely even kissed him.”

“Really? I got the feeling that you were more intimate than that.”

“Do I really have to have this conversation with you? Now, of all times?”

“Well it’s the only chance I’ve got. You avoid me like the plague because you know that as your alpha I need to look out for your welfare.” Peter stopped his pacing and turned to his sister.

“Are you worried – about me?”

“Peter – despite how devious you are, how underhanded and crafty and all of the words that most people would take as insults and you take as compliments. Despite all of that, underneath it all, you put the Pack first. With Stiles – I don’t know. I don’t think his loyalty is to the Pack as a whole.”

“His loyalty belongs to the person rather than to the concept of Pack.”

“Exactly. So, if he has an idea who this person is – if he thinks of them as Pack – “

“He would protect them! Oh my God, you’re a genius!” Grabbing up his jacket and keys, Peter headed for the door.

“Where are you going? What did I say?”

“I think I know who’s dropping all of those bodies at the Nemeton! And I know who Stiles is protecting!”

“Peter! Just – can both of you _try_ not to kill too many people?”

“No promises!”

* * *

”Stiles – I think I’ve shown a LOT of restraint, but I would really appreciate it if you would tell me what the hell is going on?”

“Lydia – all I can say is that you’re the only one who can get close to him at the minute, so you need to come with me.”

“But what’s going on? I haven’t had a lot to do with Parrish – not for lack of trying I might add – so why me?”

“If I said it was because of your overall strawberry blonde goddess-ness would that suffice?”

“Stiles – we got over that years ago! Now come straight!”

“Look – I know that you know that I know, so why don’t we just skip the bull and catch our guy, eh?” Lydia gave Stiles a scorching look, then after a moment, her gaze softened and she nodded acknowledgement. “Can we pick up the pace? For someone carrying a dead body, he’s moving at quite a clip.”

“If I’d known I was going to be trekking through the Preserve, I would have worn a different pair of heels.”

“God, I love you Lydia!” They arrived in a small clearing, a sprawling tree stump in the middle of it. And standing directly in front it, carrying the body of a murdered teenager, his body covered in flickering flames, was Jordan Parrish.

* * *

“I don’t understand just why you need me to come along!” Peter scowled over at his niece even as he tried to hurry her along.

“Because – my readings tell me that if it’s not a spiritual connection, then it needs to be a physical one. And don’t bother trying to deny that you and Parrish have something physical going on because just because your mother has forgotten how to use her nose doesn’t mean I have!”

“Uncle Peter! Wait – what’s this about Jordan?”

“Do you children pay NO attention when we talk? The problem with the disappearing bodies? Ringing any bells?”

“But why would – You think that has something to do with Jordan? I mean – “

“Do you know what he is?”

“ **HE** doesn’t know what he is!”

“Well, I think I do! And if I’m right, we might be able to get this sorted out and save the Sheriff having to explain why seven bodies have disappeared from the morgue in the last five weeks. Because when Noah has to explain himself to people, we **all** suffer!”

* * *

”I want to speak to Jordan.”

_“Jordan Parrish is dead.”_

“No he’s not. If Jordan had died, I would have screamed.”

_“Jordan Parrish died long ago. Now, I use this form.”_

“No – you _are_ his form! See, if Parrish was dead, you wouldn’t be here,” Stiles interjected and Lydia slapped him on the shoulder.

“Ssh! You said you would let me talk to him – it – him.”

_“You may call me him.”_

“So you recognise me? What I am?”

_“I recognise that I serve you.”_

“Then if you serve me, let me speak to Parrish.” Lydia’s tone was imperious.

_“Jordan Parrish is no more.”_

“Er – I beg to differ! Because if Jordan Parrish is no more, just who was I with Friday night?” 

“Laura?”

“Hey Stiles – what a surprise it isn’t to see you here in the middle of all of this!” 

“Hey, not my fault I just happened – “

“Don’t even try it!” Laura stepped forward until both women were stood directly in front of Parrish. “Right, you – you hell-hound?”

_“That is correct.”_

“If Uncle Peter is right – and unfortunately he’s generally right – then you inhabit Jordan’s body. Yes?”

_“That is correct.”_

“So – without Jordan’s body, you’re kinda screwed, huh?”

_“That is – correct.”_

“Which means that you need to learn to cooperate with him – and us.”

_“I serve the Wailing Woman.”_

“Hi – Lydia? I’m Laura – Jordan’s – um – sort of girlfriend?”

“Well it’s nice to know I’m not losing my touch! I should have known when he turned me down for coffee that he was taken by someone special.”

“That’s such a nice thing to say! I love your hair – do you – “

“If you could **please** focus!” 

“Sorry Uncle Peter!”

“Grouchy!”

“I know – I think he just needs to get laid!” 

_“I tire of this.”_

“Well, we’re pretty tired of cleaning up your mess! You can’t go stealing bodies from the morgue!”

_“The lost souls called to me – they required solace and sanctuary.”_

“So – bringing them to the _tree_ brought them solace?”

_“They belong with the Nemeton.”_

“If we could find another way to bring them – solace, would that be acceptable?” Stiles asked.

_”Another way to bring them solace?”_

“Yes. You’re looking for – justice for them, so that they can rest. Yes?”

_”That is correct._

“Then we really do need Parrish. Because he can help us track down this bastard who’s gutting supernatural teenagers.”

‘Jordan’ stood unmoving, appearing to consider Stiles statement.

_”We would require your oath – that you will bring these souls solace.”_

“We think we might have already dealt with them – the Dread Doctors? So, yeah – I can give my oath.” Stiles stepped forward, holding out his hand and ‘Jordan’ reciprocated.

“Stiles – no!” Lydia gasped and Laura made an abortive move forward, all of them stunned when Stiles remained undamaged by the flames still surrounding Jordan. 

_”I will return if required by the Wailing Woman, but until then – you may have your Jordan Parrish.”_ Slowly the flames extinguished, and it was clear when Jordan came back to himself, his eyes clearing of the amber and red light, looking down at himself in shock.

“What the hell happened to my clothes? And where the hell am I?” Lydia was about to reply when something caught her eye.

“Well, Laura, it looks like your uncle is taking your advice.” Laura looked over to see that Peter had grabbed Stiles and was kissing him passionately. 

“Need a lift home?”

“Yes please – Stiles didn’t exactly give me a lot of notice and it’s only luck that I was back in Beacon Hills for this.” Lydia led the way back to the vehicles, Jordan trailing behind the two women.

* * *

”Jesus Christ, do you have no sense of self-preservation?” Peter pulled away from the kiss and looked down into Stiles’ face, scowling at the calm expression. “You could have been hurt!”

“Oh come on – did you think I was going to go up in flames if I just shook his hand?”

“Well you had no way of knowing that you _wouldn’t_!”

“It was a good guess. Besides – it made you finally make a move didn’t it?” About to protest, Peter realised Stiles was right. He had been holding back, allowing Stiles space he seemed to need and not acting like himself at all. Normally he went after what he wanted, storming through any obstacles in his way. 

“God, you are such an irritating little shit, Stiles,” Peter grumbled before smothering Stiles’ grin with his lips.

* * *


	6. And the one person who knew he was a badass all along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter thought that he'd been the first one to realise what a badass Stiles was ...
> 
> * * *

Peter watched as the Sheriff locked his gun away in the safe before taking a seat opposite him at the table.

“So – you and my kid, huh?”

“Yes sir.”

“Oh God, don’t call me sir! I get enough of that at work!” Noah gave Peter a long, considering look. “Look, Peter – “

“If this is going to be about me taking care of him – “

“Oh hell no – my boy can take care of himself! To my everlasting shame, I was a complete shambles when Claudia died. Stiles spent at least a good year taking care of himself _and_ me – something no kid his age should have had to do. No – I have no worries about you taking care of him.”

“Then – why did you ask me to meet you? Before Stiles arrives with dinner I mean.”

“It’s – more of a question of legalities. And understanding.” Peter cocked his head, confused by the Sheriff’s statement. 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I know you’re covered – as the Left Hand of the Pack, anything you have to do in protection of – blah blah. But Stiles – I don’t want Stiles left out to dry if he gets in over his head trying to protect you guys.”

“I – “

“You love him, yes?”

“Yes – yes I do, although I would rather have had the opportunity to tell him that before telling you.”

“Sorry, but. You know Stiles by now. You know how headstrong he is, how he sometimes doesn’t consider his own safety when he throws himself into things. Over the years, there have been – occasions – when Stiles has gone to bat for the people he cares about. And they haven’t always shown him the same regard.”

“Are you talking about Scott?” The Sheriff looked slightly discomfited.

“A little, yes. When this whole supernatural shit hit the fan, a lesser friend would have walked away but Stiles stuck by Scott – was almost killed by Scott on at at least two occasions. Probably more – I don’t quite trust Stiles to have told me the whole truth about how easy it was getting Scott to accept what had happened to him.”

“I can understand that.”

“Yes, well. I know Stiles has done some things that might be considered on the very fringes of the law, if you know what I mean.”

“I think I can see where you’re going with this.”

“Just – is there such a thing as a Pack having two Left Hands?”

“I’ve never heard of it myself, but – “ Peter’s head was reeling slightly – this was a bit like talking to Stiles, the conversation going all over the place. 

“I’m gonna be blunt with you, Peter, because I’m at the end of a long shift and I just don’t have the energy to hedge around things. If you are in this with my son – and you seem to be – then you need to know when Stiles loves someone, he goes all in. So – it’s more about you taking care of yourself. Because if he loves you the way I think he does, and something happens to you – I think he would make the world rain blood.”

Peter sat in shock, almost unable to believe what the Sheriff was saying. 

“Are you trying to say – I mean – “

“Just – if you are out doing Left Hand business on Talia’s behalf, maybe take him with you? Because my boy would move heaven and earth to make sure you always make it home. If something happened to you and Stiles thought it was – a particular person’s responsibility or fault – I hesitate to say what he might do.” The Sheriff stopped speaking for a moment, trying to choose his words carefully. “There’s no man I would rather have at my back than Stiles – don’t do to him, don’t make him go through what I went through when I lost Claudia. Okay?”

“Okay – I mean, yes. I thought – I actually thought you were going to say that you didn’t want Stiles involved in that side of things.”

The Sheriff gave a laugh, slapping the table. “Yeah, like I could actually stop him, like _anyone_ could stop him. I taught him everything I know, but it isn’t everything _he_ knows. If Stiles had to burn down the world to protect someone he loves, he would. Stiles needs an anchor – just maybe warn your Alpha that if his anchor is you, and it’s taken away? It wouldn’t be good for anyone.”

“Right.”

“Okay – good talk. Fancy a beer? Before Stiles gets here with that god-awful salad he’s going to try and make me eat.” Noah got up and headed towards the kitchen, leaving Peter sat at the table thinking. All this time, he’d thought he was the one who had seen that Stiles was a force to be reckoned with first when it looked like his father had known all along.

* * *

**fin**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm probably going to do a sidebar with Stiles and Peter because I have a hankering to do a murder-husbands thing, but this seems to have finished itself off. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it - please let me know in the comments if you spot any glaring errors or if there are plot points I've missed (a lot of this was written whilst suffering from insomnia so it's more than possible that I've missed something)
> 
> Thanks for reading, commenting and kudos  
> As always  
> Stay safe, stay sane and stay kind  
> Skar  
> x
> 
> * * *


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